


A Prince of Fire and Heiress of Ice

by medelrey



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, ITS NOT REALLY RHAEGAR AND LYANNA BUT I DONT KNOW WHAT ELSE TO TAG IT AS, bear is a direwolf by the way, except it's like a second generation rhaegar and lyanna, i'm literally shit at titles, idk how to tag them, she'd technically be lyanna targaryen from start to finish, they're way more like OCS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7404190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medelrey/pseuds/medelrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say history repeats itself - and perhaps it does when Jon and Sansa's Lyanna meets Daenerys' Rhaegar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Prince of Fire and Heiress of Ice

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt: The daughter of Sansa and Jon looks like Lyanna. The son of Daenerys and Aegon looks like Rhaegar. One day they meet and history repeats itself.

Lyanna is five months old when Queen Daenerys brings her royal family to Winterfell. The memory of King Robert and Cersei arriving years earlier stuns Sansa into silence as the Dragon Queen exits her carriage.

She bounces her babe, desperately trying to remind herself these are different times; that Jon won’t be taken from her and Lyanna won’t be bartered for. She curtsies as Jon bows, holding tight to her chest.

Daenerys brings her son with her, a small little boy two months older than Lyanna. He looks every bit Targaryen as Lyanna looks Stark. “Welcome to Winterfell, Your Grace,” Sansa says. “I hope our children shall be great friends.”

“Yes,” the queen agrees,“ “Let’s hope they are.”

***

Lyanna is seven when she travels to King’s Landing with her father, sat on her own horse with her own men. She’s so strong willed, determined to keep pace with Jon. “Father, why didn’t mother come with us?”

Jon slows his horse. “Someone must run Winterfell while we are gone. And I wouldn’t trust Ned to do it, would you?”

“Ned’s just a baby! He’s scared of his own shadow!”

Jon laughs, reaching over to ruffle his daughter’s dark hair. “You were small once, too, Lyanna. You weren’t always so brave.”

“I was,” she insists, “Mother said I’m just like my namesake, whatever that means.”

“Aye, but I recall a few storms when you snuck into our chambers.”

Lyanna pouts, “At least I don’t cry when Bear knocks me over.”

“You should be nicer to your brother. You might need him to rescue you one day and he won’t if you treat him like you do.”

The little girl considers her father’s advice. “I’ll try to be nicer. But I’ll never need rescuing.”

Jon tugs on his daughter’s braids. “Whatever am I going to do with you?”

***  
Lyanna doesn’t much care for her cousin. Rhaegar is only two months older but doesn’t let Lyanna forget it. She’s still taller than him but he’s arrogant and rude and always has to win at everything he does.

Rhaegar flicks his silver-white hair out of his face as the two play in the courtyard. He lines up his bow and let’s the arrow loose, cheering as it hits just left of the bullseye. “I bet you can’t do that,” he taunts.

“I can do better.”

“Prove it.”

“Give me your bow.”

“This is mine. And you’re a girl. This is made for boys.”

“Give it to me.” Lyanna narrows her eyes and holds out her hand, tapping her foot in impatience. “I said, give it to me.”

Rhaegar sighs, handing it over. “Don’t cry when you hurt yourself.”

Lyanna rolls her eyes as she lines up the arrow; her tongue darting out in concentration. She hesitates a little; this bow is heavier than hers at home, a little too long for her arms. But she’s bound and determined to prove her cousin wrong.

“Well, what are you waiting on?”

Lyanna pulls her hand back, sending the arrow flying directly into the bullseye. She smirks at Rhaegar, shoving his bow into his chest. “Told you I could do better.”

He curses under his breath, embarrassed at being beaten.

***  
Lyanna is fifteen when Rhaegar travels to Winterfell for the first time since he was a baby. She’s not excited; she still finds him arrogant and annoying. She tries to convince her father to cancel the visit but not even his only daughter can convince him of that.

Sansa paces in front of Jon, fingers smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in her gown. “Does she have to bring the entirety of King’s Landing?”

Jon reaches for his wife, stilling her hands and kissing her forehead. “It will be alright. It’s a short visit; she wishes for the prince to see his kingdom.”

Sansa sighs as she leans into Jon’s touch. “She makes me so uneasy still. And Lyanna has been in a mood since she learned they were coming. Impossible to deal with.”

“I know,” Jon reassures, “But you know how she is. Like her mother.”

Sansa swats at his chest. “More like her father.”

Jon kisses Sansa as he laughs.

Lyanna stands next to her brother as they await their queen’s arrival. Her mother has her dressed in her finest gown, a heavy thing that she hates. She did barter for a compromise, leaving her hair mostly down. Ned is antsy beside her, eager to see their younger cousin. She likes him, and she never fails to understand how the two siblings can be so different.

She rolls her eyes as Rhaegar exits his carriage. He’s dressed in black and red, his silver-white hair touching his shoulders in small wisps. He’s awfully tall, but not unattractively so. Lyanna only regrets that he’s now taller than she is.

Sansa pinches her arm, “Curtsey, Lyanna. Remember who you are.”

Lyanna manages to avoid for cousin for three days before she grows bored without her brother to entertain her or her father to spar with. She sighs as she sneaks to the kitchen, grabbing a bucket of ale and two cups as she seeks out Rhaegar’s chambers.

He’s sitting at the desk in the corner of his room when she knocks. “Are you reading?”

“People are known to do that occasionally.”

Lyanna rolls her eyes. “Come with me.”

She sneaks him to a hidden spot she frequents when she needs to get away. Lyanna pours them both a drink as they sit.

“Have you been avoiding me?” Rhaegar asks, grimacing as he takes a sip.

“Winterfell is a big castle.”

“I see.”

“You look different.”

“So do you.”

It’s silent for a few minutes and Lyanna is confused. Rhaegar’s comment leaves an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach; is he saying she’s ugly? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know. You said it.”

“Well, you do. You’re taller and don’t look quite as, well…” She trails off, drowning herself in ale.

“Are you calling me handsome?”

“No!” She sputters, red staining her cheeks. “No.”

“I think you’re pretty, Lyanna. Not like you used to be.”

“Isn’t that so kind of you?” She sneers, “Not like I used to be…” Lyanna finishes her ale, leaving her cup at her feet. “They say you’re the most charming prince that ever lived. People lie.”

Rhaegar frowns. “I meant no offense, my lady.”

“Too bad,” she says, storming off. “And I’m not a lady!”

Lyanna returns to the castle in a terrible mood. “Where have you been?” Jon asks, “Your mother is in a panic.”

“Nowhere,” she says, bottom lip trembling. She can’t decide if she’s more upset at being insulted or the fact she has hurt feelings.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? What happened?”

Lyanna shrugs and hugs her father. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Jon doesn’t push, but he doesn’t miss Rhaegar searching around the corner.

***  
Lyanna is nineteen when she goes missing. Sansa collapses into Jon’s arms after they can’t find her. She’s not in the Godswood, not in the hidden places she thinks are secret, not anywhere. “Jon, we must find her.”

“I know, Sansa. And we will.” Jon kisses the crown of her head. “We will find her.”

He holds her close as Ned rushes into the room, still in his riding cloak. “Mother, Father, there’s no sign of her on the King’s Road but just as we arrived back there was a raven. It’s from King’s Landing.”

Jon takes the letter from his son, ripping the seal. “The Queen says Rhaegar is missing.”

Sansa collapses into a fresh set of tears as Ned holds her up. “Jon, you must go find her. Bring her home to me. To us.”

Lyanna feels awful that she’s run away, but her parents would’ve never approved the match. And the queen would’ve never let Rhaegar marry her.

“It will be alright, Lyanna,” Rhaegar assures. “I promise.”

He kisses her cheek as she nods. “I hope so.”

“You are my wife now; how could things not be alright?”

Lyanna smiles as she kisses him, cradling his face between her hands. His violet eyes are so kind and she believes him. “I trust you are right.”

“I’m never wrong,” he teases. “Except that one time you beat me.”

They’re in a small cabin tucked away in the greenery of the Riverlands when she hears the horses. It’s the middle of the night and she rouses Rhaegar from his sleep. “Wake up,” she urges, “They’ve found us.”

“Wha-”

“Your mother or my father have found us. We must get up. Now.”

They dress in a hurry as the small army gets closer. “What will happen now, Rhaegar?”

“Nothing bad,” he says, “I promise.”

It’s Ned that finds them first, her brother of sixteen. He sends soldiers to their father. “Have you gone mad, Lyanna? Have both of you lost your minds?”

“Don’t scold me,” she says, wrapping her cloak tighter around her shoulders. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Have you no idea what you’ve done to mother and father? They thought the worst. They thought you were dead.”

“Hush, Ned. I’m fine. I went on my own. I’m a grown woman and I’ll not be told what to do with my life, especially not by you.”

“And you,” Ned starts, reaching for his sword to take on Rhaegar. “You steal my sister away and think that’s alright?”

“Ned! I told you I made the decision on my own. He had nothing to do with this.”

Rhaegar frowns. “I wish for no trouble.”

Ned shakes his head before he storms out. Lyanna sighs as she hears her brother yell out to their father.

It’s hell on earth for both of them for months before things settle. Rhaegar was meant to marry a different princess and Lyanna for anyone but him. But sometimes things are different and everyone grows to accept the change.

***  
Lyanna is twenty-four when she welcomes her first child into the world. It’s a little boy, a tiny little boy with black hair and violet eyes. He’s a beautiful little mix of fire and ice; a perfect little prince.

“Shall we name him after your father, Lyanna?”

“Yes,” she smiles, running her fingers over her baby’s cheek. “He’ll be honored.”

Lyanna grins up at her husband. Maybe people were right; perhaps he is the most charming prince that ever lived.

**Author's Note:**

> This was such an off-the-wall story. I didn't like it at first but it has really grown on me. I love to imagine Jonsa as parents.


End file.
